


Vicious Circle

by weirdodecoy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Making Out, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8431618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdodecoy/pseuds/weirdodecoy
Summary: "Yahaba scowls. “I’m not doing this.”
 
“For the record, I’m not either.” Kyoutani bristles."
extremely short college AU of these two pissed off cuties rooming together ft. an estranged Watari who was convinced that Yahaba was nothing if not extremely mild.





	

Yahaba hates rush hour. He fiddles with the strap of his backpack, concentrating on glaring at the guy in front of him, who apparently thinks that the winner of this game is the one who orders the most complicated brew and then manages to throw a fit about it. Yahaba rejoices in the fact that this is not a game, and if it were, this guy would already be dead, because Yahaba would’ve killed him.

 

Finally, at the bartender’s threat to call security, the guy gesticulates angrily one last time, then moves over with a curse. Yahaba outstretches his hands towards the counter as if it’s a raft and he’s drowning. 

 

“Get out of my fucking way,” says some other guy, who has just shoved Yahaba out of the way like he weighs nothing. 

 

Yahaba is so unnerved he could scream. Squaring his posture, he replies, as firmly as he can muster, “I was here first.” He will take no arguments.

 

The guy turns his head towards him, pinning him with his gaze. He’s about Yahaba’s height, but is sporting such a ridiculous hairdo that it makes him look like he does have a few inches over him. His hair is shaved on the side, except for a darker, horizontal stripe running along the length of his skull. The mohawk, or whatever it is, is dyed an outrageous shade of blonde, almost platinum. His eyes are lined with black eyeliner. Yahaba has to contain a chuckle. 

 

“What the fuck?” says the guy.

 

The bartender, probably completely exasperated, catches their attention with a feeble, “there are other clients in line, please settle down.”

 

The blond thug’s eyes thin to slits. “Fuck you. This is my spot.”

 

Yahaba does not frequently use this kind of language. In all truth, he has been called mild. He tries not to think about his mother when he tells the thug: “Asshole, I’ve been in this queue for over twenty minutes, you better get out of my fucking way.”

 

The person that is more shocked by this turn of events is not the irked bartender, but Yahaba himself.

 

The only reaction the thug can have before they are both dragged out by security is a weak, “shut the fuck up.”

 

The security guards aren’t gentle when they dump both of them outside.

 

The thug plops down on the pavement’s step. “Congratulations, asshole. You fucked my morning up.”

 

“Like I care.” Yahaba answers coldly. Again, he is surprised at how fast these remarks come out of his usually tranquil mouth.

 

The thug frowns at him from his spot on the pavement. “You owe me a coffee.”

 

Yahaba scoffs at him. “Keep dreaming.”

 

—

 

Yahaba passes a blissful week following what is now known as ‘The Coffeeshop Accident’. He hasn’t seen the thug anywhere around campus, thankfully, and he has been able to retrieve his coffee, even during rush hour, without much trouble.

 

All is calm, all is good. 

 

Or so Yahaba thinks.

 

Watari has taken one of the seats close to the large window. He waves him over when Yahaba enters the coffeeshop. 

 

“I’m sorry, something came up so Kyoutani told me that he’s going to be a bit late.” Watari tells him once Yahaba has taken his seat. “I hope you don’t mind.”

 

Today Yahaba is supposed to meet his new roommate. Watari used to be his, until he moved out with his boyfriend with the promise to find a new one for Yahaba. 

 

Yahaba smiles at him. “That’s fine. In the meantime, how have your classes been going?”

 

He doesn’t notice anything amiss until Watari interrupts their conversation by raising his hand and beckoning someone over. Yahaba follows the trail of his gaze, and his eyes land on none other than last week’s thug. 

 

His jaw locks. “Don’t ask him to—” it’s already too late. Watari, the unknowing, gentle fool he is, gestures for the thug to come sit.

 

A sinking feeling settles deep in Yahaba’s stomach. This can’t be what he think it is.

 

The thug seems to feel a similar level of discomfort, since his eyes have widened in acknowledgment and his features have upturned into a glower.

 

“Hello, Kyoutani!” says Watari. “You made it!”

 

He turns to Yahaba, “This is Kyoutani! He’s in my Intro to Architecture class and is also with me in Engineering. I’m sure you two will get along!”

 

Yahaba scowls. “I’m not doing this.”

 

“For the record, I’m not either.” Kyoutani bristles. 

 

Watari’s jaw tightens. “You two don’t even know—”

 

“How do you know him anyways?” Kyoutani says to Yahaba, raising his voice. “You’re too much of an asshole to have friends.”

 

Yahaba’s on his feet faster than he can think up a reply. “What the fuck did you just say?” 

 

Watari’s hand comes down on his shoulder to try and appease him, but it’s already too late.

 

All three of them are promptly escorted from the coffeeshop and deposited on the pavement outside.

 

Reminiscent of their meeting the previous week, Kyoutani plops down on the pavement’s steps, his head in his hands.

 

Watari stares up at the sky. “You were always so mild, Yahaba. What happened?”

 

Well, he’s too pissed off to care now. “Listen, Shinji, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to keep paying your share of the apartment until you find me someone new to room with.”

 

Watari sighs. “Why can’t you just room with him?”

 

Yahaba bares his teeth. “Is it enough to say I can’t stand him?”

 

“Just eat it up, you idiot,” Watari answers. “I don’t care about whatever is between you two. Don’t waste this opportunity, Yahaba. You won’t find someone else willing to move in so far into the semester.”

 

Yahaba had to admit that Watari was talking sense. It was stupid to keep a grudge when things were so close to turning into his favour. It cost him to say it, but it would damage him more to disagree. “Fine.” 

 

Watari smiles. “Thanks, Yahaba. Now, Kyoutani. Please, please, do me this favour.”

 

Kyoutani rises from the pavement. He turns in their direction. With a grin, he nods his head. “I mean, if you’re begging, I might as well accept.”

 

It takes all of Yahaba’s will not to pounce on Kyoutani and kill him.

 

—  
The next week is almost quiet. Kyoutani moves in, bringing with him obscure band posters and more dvds than clothes. Yahaba relinquishes his peace of mind not without a fight.

 

At first they ignore one another, shooting only curious looks when they think that one isn’t looking. Once the novelty of their new companionship has passed, they’re arguing on the daily. Kyoutani always leaves his shoes messily in the foyer, or Yahaba forgets to put one of Kyoutani’s dvds back inside the case. 

 

They almost always end up gravitating towards each other after a screaming match. Kyoutani would cook something, Yahaba would come in the kitchen and they’d share the meal in silence. Or Yahaba would sit on the sofa and turn on the tv, and if Kyoutani is free, he’ll sit in his allotted portion and they’ll watch something together.

 

Yahaba would never admit it, but he almost enjoys Kyoutani’s company. Despite appearances, he doesn’t talk much. He regularly frequents a study group, and he is more than interested in Yahaba’s renderings of the outside autumn scenery. The feeling is mutual, since Yahaba enjoys going through Kyoutani’s drawings of futuristic bridges and buildings.

 

It’s during one of these nights that Yahaba falls asleep. It seems that nothing will come out of it. He begins breathing evenly, his head lolling against his shoulder. Until his body weight upturns, and his head falls on Kyoutani’s thighs. Yahaba does not wake. Kyoutani makes no move to get rid of him either. 

 

He continues watching the tv in silence, until a particularly loud noise rouses Yahaba. He blinks uncertainly, feeling the heat of Kyoutani’s leg against his cheek. Then he snaps upright, as if he were burned. 

 

They stare at each with eyes blown wide for a few seconds. Then Yahaba utters a soft, “come here,” and they’re kissing. 

 

It’s soft at first, not the type of communication you’d expect between them. Yahaba takes his time, coaxing Kyoutani closer to him with gentle laps of his tongue. Kyoutani seems frozen for a few seconds, before his hand comes up to rest against Yahaba’s nape. He chafes with Yahaba’s hair. Their exchanges grow rougher, with Yahaba nibbling deftly at Kyoutani’s lower lip. They break away to take a breath. Kyoutani is gaping at him.

 

Yahaba raises his arm to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. His ferocious instincts have awakened yet again. “You look like a deliquent, you kiss like a virgin.”

 

Kyoutani’s sneer is feral. “You look like a virgin, but your kissing isn’t that bad.”

 

Yahaba leers at him. “We should go out.”

 

In answer, Kyoutani leans in and their lips meet again.

 

Later, in bed, Yahaba tells him, “You don’t look smart enough to be taking Intro to Architecture”

 

“Shut up,” Kyoutani growls. His words rumble against Yahaba’s skin, making him shiver.

 

“Make me.”

 

—

 

They haven’t stopped fighting. They don’t get along. If anything, their arguing has only intensified. The only difference is that now they have a way to let their frustration out afterwards. It’s a vicious circle, perhaps only vicious in the way that Yahaba is forced to wear long sleeves in the heat to hide Kyoutani’s nail marks, while the other is forced to spend a fortune in concealer to cover up the love bites that litter his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading and feel free to leave a comment about your thoughts! kudos are also very appreciated. i hope you enjoyed this really short fic. it's just a prelude for some other stuff i have in mind and i wanted to somehow break the ice.


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